This Means War
by sdbubbles
Summary: When someone is stupid enough to mess with Jac Naylor's car, who will become embroiled in the resulting war? Because, at Holby City Hospital, what happens in the car park doesn't always stay there - it spreads like wildfire through AAU, Keller and Darwin.
1. The Ignition Fuse

**A/N: This is a Christmas present for _therealmisshappy_, as she's so lovely, so I hope she likes it!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

Nothing happened. She turned the key and nothing happened. Oh joy. It was Christmas Eve night, so there wasn't a hope in hell of her getting to a mechanic. It was becoming increasingly likely she was going to have to call a taxi if she wanted home tonight.

Jac Naylor got out of her car and kicked the tyre in frustration as she took out her mobile. Why, why did this have to happen on one of the only nights of the years she couldn't get any help from a mechanic? The car wasn't even trying to start. It wasn't doing anything at all. If it was a human being, she'd have called time of death by now.

"Car trouble?" a voice behind her asked. Jac turned with a start to find Serena Campbell behind her with an umbrella and thick coat, trying to hide from the awful winter storm brewing overhead.

"Yeah," Jac sighed. "The engine's not even turning."

"Nothing?" Serena asked with a frown. "Surely it would tick over or something?"

"Nope. Not a squeak out of it. See for yourself," she offered, looking up a taxi firm on her phone. Serena went into the driver's seat and turned the key, with no result apart from silence. Jac could tell it puzzled Serena as much as it did her – it drove perfectly this morning. It wasn't even an old car, for crying out loud.

"Well, I could run you home if you wanted," Serena said, but Jac didn't take offers of kindness, so she pretended she didn't hear, continuing to attempt to look up the number for a taxi company, to no avail. The signal here wasn't the best, and the storm probably wasn't helping.

Jac wasn't even upset or angry; she was just confused, because everything had worked perfectly twelve hours ago when she drove in. She'd been in theatre all day on a particularly tricky operation, so she couldn't have damaged anything because she hadn't had the opportunity to.

She was vaguely aware that Serena was still hovering behind her, trying to work out what was wrong. Why did she even care, anyway? Then she remembered..._us girls should stick together_. Yes, the only two female consultants at Holby needed to be allies. Jac fully agreed there. Serena had a point actually. All those men completely outnumbered the women. She understood now how difficult it must have been for Connie Beauhamp to juggle her job and her daughter; the woman was as bad as her for not allowing vulnerabilities to show.

Jac heard a gasp behind her and truned to see Serena with a smile on her face. "I know what's wrong!" she said. "Where's the fuse panel?"

"The what?" Jac asked. "I only know how to drive the thing, Serena. Don't expect me to be of any help whatsoever."

Serena rolled her dark eyes and bent over, looking for something. She searched the driver's side until she gave up and looked in the glove compartment. "Where's the manual?" she called. Jac groaned and looked under the driver's seat, finding the book she'd never once opened.

"What are you on about the fuse panel for?" Jac demanded, while Serena looked up something.

"Because I think I know what's wrong. Pop the bonnet, will you?" she requested, getting out of the car. Jac obliged and got out to see what was happening. Of all people, she never would have pegged Serena Campbell as one to know her way around a car. She had a small box open and was scanning through a list, finding the corresponding small coloured block that matched the number. "I'm no expert," she disclaimed any suggestion of the solution. "But have you by any chance given your keys to anyone today?"

"Yeah," Jac shrugged. "Patient puked up blood onto my trainers so I asked Nurse Maconie to get my spares while I got new scrubs. Why?"

"A few years ago, my daughter's friend went through a car phase. And she was going through a practical joke phase. They were only thirteen, but it didn't make it any less annoying," she smiled, almost fond of the memory of her apparently bratty teenage daughter. "Anyway. They thought it'd be funny to swipe the ignition fuse from the panel. And, of course, when I tried to start my car, nothing happened."

"And you think Jonny's done the same to me?" Jac asked. Surely he wasn't _that_ stupid. He knew Jac, and he knew her temper. "Speak of the devil," she muttered, just as Jonny walked past with Ollie. "Oi!" she shouted, causing all three heads to turn in her direction. "Hand it over, Maconie!"

"Hand what over?" he asked, appearing confused. But Jac wasn't going to fall for it, and she wasn't in the best of humour – she was cold, wet and very much lacking in Christmas spirit.

"The ignition fuse," Serena told him. "You know, the one that the car can't start without?" she added with a degree of sarcasm. But he seemed genuinely confused. Was it possible he wasn't to blame?

"I'm going home," Ollie sighed. "Happy Christmas," he said to them all, rolling his eyes just as Serena had done earlier. He walked away from the scene before it turned into an almighty row. Jonny was holding his hands up, pleading innocence. And Jac was actually finding herself believing him. After all, Jonny wasn't stupid enough to pull a joke on her, at night and in the cold.

"I swear I didn't do anything but get your trainers," he promised her, and he was clearly genuine. "But I did get sidetracked," he winced, waiting for her reaction. "There was a kid who needed taken to the ED, and Michael Spence was passing, and..." he trailed off, letting her fill in the gaps.

"If you're telling me you gave my car keys to _Michael Spence_, Jonny, I will _kill_ you," she warned.

"Well, I told him to give them to Elliot because you'd just gone into theatre, and Elliot thought they were mine and gave them to me, and then I gave them back to you and you were none the wiser," he explained, and the look on his face was priceless, almost as if he was expecting a slap.

"He did look quite smug when he came back from lunch," Serena added. "Smugger than usual, if that's possible."

"You're an idiot. You do know that, don't you?" Jac checked he knew his own stupidity. Giving Michael her car keys wasn't a good idea.

"I do now," he smiled painfully.

Before Jac knew it, the three of them were back up on AAU and a look of dread was crossing the bronze features of Michael Spence. "You have three seconds to hand it over," Jac cautioned him, her hand outstretched, waiting for her fuse back. Actually, the fuse inside her was close to melting. Though she did see the funny side; the knowledge that he got her going must have been hilarious to him. Lucky Serena already had that one done on her, or Jac would have been struggling to get home right now.

The three seconds came and went and Michael just stood there with a blatantly false expression of innocence. Serena spoke up, "Michael, just give it over. I know exactly which fuse you took and where it goes. My daughter pulled that one years ago."

Michael grinned and pulled a small two pronged fuse from his pocket. Jac couldn't help but smile as he gave it over. Typical Michael, thinking that was funny. "Merry Christmas," he smiled.

Serena was standing there, shaking her head in amusement. Jonny stood beside Jac, and he was openly grinning. Now her slight panic was over, it was quite entertaining. Jac walked away, and Serena and Jonny followed; Serena was needed to put the fuse back in the right place, and Jonny...well, Jonny was following because he felt like it. "Got ya going, though, Naylor, didn't it?" he called after her.

"In your dreams, Spence!" she replied, her back still to him as she stalked off. He _had_ got her going, but she wasn't going to let him know that. She would get her revenge. She just had to plan it first.

When they got back to the car, Serena replaced the fuse to it's rightful place and turned the key. Everything was working fine and no harm was done, but Jac still found herself plotting revenge..."What possessed you to give the American my keys?" she demanded of him, much to Serena's amusement.

"I didn't have much choice," he explained honestly. "Sorry."

"Oh, kiss and make up," Serena told them with a strangely wise smile. "It's not like he did it on purpose. Michael is the one you're mad at, anyway. I'd be panning out my revenge, if I were you," she smiled knowingly.

"Oh, I am," Jac assured her. "I'll get him back, don't you worry."

"Well, if you need any help, you know where to find me. Merry Christmas," she added with a smile.

"Merry Christmas," they returned together, and as Serena walked off to her own car, Jac remembered Jonny was still here. The words Serena used had been too precise; Jac was sure she knew what was going on. Oh well. There was nothing either of them could do about it if she did.

"She told us to kiss and make up," Jonny grinned.

"Better do as we're told then, hadn't we?" Jac answered, not believing she actually said that. But when Jonny leaned in and kissed her, all those thoughts went out the window. All she could remember was that, for the first time in years, it was Christmas and she wasn't alone. All because Michael Spence thought he'd be smart and steal her – what did Serena call it, again? Ignition fuse? Whatever. All that mattered was she had Jonny back. And she had to exact revenge on the American.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	2. Jac's Revenge

**A/N: I've decided to continue this because a) there were a good number of people liked it and b) _VeryMedical_ and I envisaged a full-out war between the people and wards of the hospital. So there will be more, and some people may start playing dirty ;)**

**Also, if anyone has any ideas, feel free to PM me on here, or DM me on Twitter :)**

**Sarah x**

* * *

Jac Naylor was standing in the car park after a stroke of inspiration hit her this morning. "What are you doing?" Ric Griffin asked her curiously. He must have been wondering what on Earth she was up to.

She took the last picture she needed before she answered, "Plotting my revenge." She didn't tell him exactly what was going on; he would probably have told Michael, and then her plan would have failed miserably. She went back up to Darwin and logged onto the computer at the nurses' station.

She'd prepared all she needed by eight o'clock, and now it was nine, and everyone was flooding into work. Just as well she was almost done with her revenge.

Ten days after Michael tampered with her car – rendering it useless until she and Serena forced him to hand the fuse over – she had finally found the perfect revenge. It was simple, harmless and guaranteed to drive him up the wall.

"You're not?" Jonny said behind her, reading the screen.

"I am," she replied with an evil smirk. "Serves him right, taking the fuse out of my car. I give it until lunch before it starts," she added with a mean grin.

* * *

It was half past eleven, and already Michael was stressing. Chrissie was falling out with the loud-mouthed teenager in bed four, Sacha was being too soft on the nurses, Luc was hiding in his lab once again, and Serena had over-stepped the mark _again_ when she went into theatre unknown to him, and he only discovered what she was doing when he needed her second opinion on his own patient.

So when his mobile rang, he didn't even look at the number before answering impatiently, "What?"

"Hi," said a voice he did not recognise. "I'm phoning about the car you're selling. Can I come and see it?"  
"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded. "I'm not selling my car." He didn't even wait for a reply before hanging up, extremely confused. Where the hell had that come from? He was distracted when another patient came through the double doors, and he'd had enough of being under-staffed. "Will _somebody_ go and get Hemingway out of that God damn lab?!" he shouted in the direction of the nurses' station. "Serena, you go. Drag him out by the collar if you have to!"

There, that would get him out. Serena Campbell's steely glare was enough to make a hardened criminal shake in his boots. He was sick of the man retreating to his lab and research when he was needed up here; they had staff issues as it was, and he didn't need to be another man down. Mind you, Serena was making up for Luc's absence with her insane levels of efficiency, another thing that was driving him slightly mad.

What he wouldn't give to be in the relative peace of Keller or Darwin. Then he remembered Ric and Jac, and thanked God he wasn't putting up with them; one slept with his wife and one was just plain evil. And unusually absent in his life at the moment, which was never a good sign. No, Sacha was soft, Luc was silent and Serena was on a tight leash. He could handle them. Annoying patients were one thing, but they eventually got discharged. It wasn't so easy to deal with colleagues who drove him insane.

He phone rang again and he answered more politely this time. "Hello?"

A distinctly foreign – Spanish, or South American – woman answered: "Hello. Your car for sale? When can I see?" Well, her English wasn't brilliant, was it?

"I am _not_ selling my car!" he almost shouted down the phone. It was only the business of AAU that stopped him from attracting everyone's attention. Again, he waited for no explanation of who she was or where she got his phone number before he hung up with an irate press of his touch screen. That was the second today.

Just then, Serena returned with Luc, handing him a file and telling him to get to work. Well, that was one problem solved. He'd had a feeling sending Serena down there would do the trick. She was good for something, at least. In the back of his mind, he knew he was just wound up and annoyed; she was a good doctor, for all she irritated him.

And as for Luc. Well, he'd just about had enough of his absence. He was needed _here_, not in his stupid lab. But as yet _another_ patient was wheeled in, he didn't have time to think on it. He got back to work, as did the rest of his team. Two hours later and he'd had no more phone calls from people wanting to buy his car.

At quarter to two, he finally got to stop for lunch in his office. Well, as Serena had done the same, it was their office at the moment. He was just biting into his ham and cheese sandwich when his phone rang. Without thinking, he answered it. "Yeah, Michael Spence here."

"Hey, I just saw the ad for your car. What would be lowest you'd take for it?" a young man asked him.

"What ad?!" Michael demanded. What the hell was going on?

"On Gumtree, mate," the man replied, apparently confused.

"OK, let's get this straight," Michael almost snarled. "First, I am not your _mate_, and second, I am not selling my damn car!" he said, his patience finally wearing out. He hung up and threw his phone down on the desk.

He typed the web address into his computer, his temper getting the better of him, found his location, and typed the make and model of his car into the search bar. And low and behold, their was his car, advertised for eight hundred pounds, with his mobile number underneath. He spun the monitor around and demanded of Serena, "You got anything to do with this?"

She burst out laughing but told him, "Nothing to do with me."

"Then why is my car apparently being sold for eight hundred pounds?!" he asked her, while she grinned at the result.

"You know what they say about a woman scorned, Michael," she smiled, and confusion washed over him.

"What are you on about, Serena?" he retorted, sipping his coffee. She smiled into her fork as she ate her pasta. There was something wicked in her smile, and though he believed her when she said she'd had nothing to do with this, he also believed she knew what had happened.

"You do remember you took Jac Naylor's ignition fuse from her car last week, don't you? Left me to figure out why her car wouldn't start?" Serena checked. "And you honestly thought she was going to let you off with it?" she chuckled. "You should be so lucky."

Michael realised now what had happened. How stupid he'd been, as Serena pointed out, to actually think Jac was going to let it lie. Of course not. It was Jac Naylor, after all. He got out of his chair and got into the lift, thumping the _6_ button in annoyance. He stalked onto Darwin. "Naylor!" he shouted, attracting attention from Mo and Jonny.

His phone rang again and he picked it up just in case it was important. That was the biggest issue – he had to answer his phone, even if he didn't know the number, in case it was an emergency or he was needed on another ward. "Hello. I'm calling to see when I can come and see the car you're selling?" a man's voice asked him.

"My car is not for sale!" he shouted at the man, annoyance taking over now. When he hung up the phone, he noticed Jac trying not to laugh as he got irritated. "Take it down," he ordered her.

"Manners, Michael," she smirked.

"Take it down, _please_," he said sarcastically. "I'm gonna watch you do it, too, 'cause I don't trust you as far as I could kick you," he added. She was openly smiling, which he liked. What he didn't like so much was that it was at his expense. She turned and logged onto the nearest computer, and logged onto the website using his name. She found the ad and deleted it.

"You've got to admit," Jonny began. "It was pretty funny. I didn't think she'd actually do it."

"You knew about this?" Michael demanded. Jonny was right, though. Now he'd calmed down and it was finished, it _was_ a good joke to pull. "Oh, this is _war_," he announced with a wicked grin. "You two better sleep with one eye open from now on," he warned.

Ollie and Tara looked at each other with identical expressions of dread. Mo, standing behind Jonny, said, "Uh-oh." Elliot just looked entertained, and Jac looked as arrogant and as fearless as always.

Michael left without another word. As he returned to his office, finding Serena finishing off the last of her lunch as she looked at a patient file on the computer, he realised just what he'd started last week. And he knew that if anyone was to sleep with one eye open, it was going to end up being him.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	3. Too Hot For You

**A/N: First, thank you so much for all the fabulous reviews! The response to this fic has been fantastic, and I promise there is more fun and evilness to come. **

**Sarah x**

* * *

"Well, I refused to get involved," Mo announced to her best friend as she scooped fresh coffee from the Tupperware box into the cafetiere. "It'll just end in tears," she warned Jonny, waiting for the kettle to boil. It was her turn to do the early morning coffee-making. Jac was already in theatre with Tara observing, so she only needed to make for herself, Jonny, Ollie and Elliot.

"I was actually scared to sleep last night," Jonny admitted solemnly. They both knew Michael Spence had meant it when he declared war yesterday. Mo poured coffee, sugar and milk into the appropriate mugs, handing Jonny the first two.

"Take them to Ollie and Elliot while I make ours, will you?" she asked. He obediently took them and left her to boil the kettle again. She silently wondered what was going to happen next – they'd started with the ignition fuse trick, then Jac pulled the false advertising one. It was only a matter of time before they mistakenly dragged others into it.

She poured the water into the cafetiere again and pushed the plunger. She was just pushing it down when Jonny returned. She handed him his and immediately drank from hers, in desperate need of her caffeine fix. But there was something not right.

Before she knew it, both she and Jonny were choking, her mouth and throat burning with something that wasn't just the heat of the coffee. It was disgusting, and she felt sweat on her forehead. She kept coughing, trying to get the taste out of her throat. Just then, Ollie came moodily thumping in. "Are you trying to kill me?!" he demanded, his face red and a little annoyed.

"Does it look like I knew about it?" she retorted, running them all a glass of fresh water. Elliot too came in, choking, reaching for a glass and a tap. He drank deeply from the glass, breathless when he finally spoke.

"What one Earth did you put in that coffee?" he asked in an uncharacteristically angry tone. Mo understood why, though – after all, his coffee had just burnt the roof of his mouth off, and it was nothing to to with hot water, because they all took milk in their coffee.

"I didn't do anything but make normal coffee!" she insisted. She was recovering now, and she could taste something that shouldn't have been there. Jonny pulled out the tub off coffee and smelled it.

"There is no _way_ that is just coffee," he said, now fully awake for all the wrong reasons. He let her smell it, passing it around. Whoa. There was something seriously wrong with that coffee. It smelled of coffee, but the scent was too warm – hot even – for it to be normal coffee. "Tara bought it last night. Maybe she's trying to broaden our horizons?" he suggested, obviously looking for the kindest answer possible.

Mo took the lid off the bin and found the packet. It was just their normal filter coffee. Same as always; medium to strong, Fairtrade coffee. She showed them and they shrugged their shoulders. Then, in the bin next to it, were three small glass containers. She picked them up and read the label: _hot chilli powder_. "Someone's put chill powder in the coffee!" she almost shouted.

"If I were a betting man, I'd wager Michael just got revenge on the wrong people," Elliot replied, reading the labels. "You have to hand it to him, though. That was fairly clever. For him, anyway."

"It is _on_," Mo declared. "I'll get him for this. Two can play at this game." She was fuming, determined to hit back. She was silently plotting; it had to be something to do with _his_ taste buds. It was only fair after that. Something so subtle he wouldn't noticed until it went in his mouth. Something insanely hot, perhaps? Then it clicked. She knew just the thing.

"I thought Saint Mo wasn't getting involved," Jonny challenged her. "I thought you were above all this."

"Yeah," Ollie agreed. "You know what'll happen. This whole thing will just get totally out of hand and then we'll all be scared to open every door we come to. But I do think we need to get rid of _that_ before Jac decides to make coffee," he told them, pointing at the coffee as if it personally offended him.

"Nobody messes with my taste buds and gets away with it," she snarled. She was serious. She _would _get him back for this one. Stupid American. She found her purse, and said to Elliot, "You got your car with you today?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Good," she smiled. "You can take me to the nearest supermarket," she ordered him. "Come on!" she clapped her hands impatiently before taking him by the arm. "If we're needed, phone us. We'll only be about half an hour. Three-quarters, tops!" she called back to Jonny and Ollie.

Soon enough, they had a new pack of coffee, and Mo was dragging Elliot to the fruit and veg aisle. She picked her poison and went through self-service. "Are you mad?" Elliot demanded.

"Call me crazy, but I don't think Michael Spence should get off with almost killing us all," she reasoned. Elliot drove them back but instead of heading up to Darwin, they sneaked into the AAU staffroom and into the fridge. She tried to work out which food container was Michael's – the sandwiches, the cold chicken salad or the large tub of pasta with peppers and pesto sauce? "Which one do you think?" she asked.

"I think it's the pasta," Elliot said. "Michael doesn't particularly like salad, and a sandwich is probably too boring for him," he rationalised, keeping lookout. Mo could tell he was torn between decency and a wish to get back at Michael, and that the latter was taking priority at the moment.

Mo found a knife and sliced the four Scotch bonnet peppers into slices so it resembled a normal pepper, of which there was already plenty in the pasta. She knew she was kicking off the war of the century, but she was determined to get her revenge. "Hurry up!" Elliot whispered urgently.

"Just a sec," she replied, stirring the slices into the pasta and sauce. "There!" she grinned. "That'll teach him. Right. We better get back up to Darwin and replace the coffee before her majesty finds out what happened and goes off on one."

They sneaked back off the Acute Admissions Unit unseen, which was quite the feat with Elliot in tow. Especially since he tripped in his haste to get away from the scene of their crime. She rushed to wash and dry the box, and replace the bad coffee. "What have you done?" Jonny asked around the door. She turned to see his expression torn between fear, worry, amusement, and the excitement of a little boy who was trying not to get caught with sweets he shouldn't have.

"Ever tasted a Scotch bonnet pepper?"

"Never dared to go near them," he confessed. "Too much of a coward."

"Well, when Michael Spence goes to eat that lovely pasta of his at lunchtime, he'll find four of them sliced so brilliantly he won't even notice until it's too late," she revealed.

"You are evil," he accused.

"You love me really. Did Jac try and make coffee yet?"

"Nah, still in theatre. She doesn't get to know about this, ya hear me? She'll just go all mental, and then she'll go down there and throttle Michael. Or have Lady Campbell help her nick all the fuses from his car so nothing works," he added as an afterthought.

"Deal," she agreed. Ollie came in, wearing a devilish grin.

"You didn't actually put a whole load of Scotch bonnet peppers in Michael's lunch, do you?" he asked incredulously. "Penny got me to try some of the local food when we went to the Caribbean as teenagers. I came across one of them and I swear I nearly died!"

"And what about when Michael thinks it's Jac?" Jonny added.

"Ah, she'll deny it, and he'll believe her," Mo waved away his concerns. "If Jac Naylor got one over on him, she wouldn't deny it. She'd take all the credit and everyone knows it. If she tells him it wasn't her, he'll believe her."

And so it began. After vowing not to get caught up in this, she'd just committed the cardinal sin of tampering with someone's food. But she had to admit to herself that she was kind of looking forward to what was to come. Because one thing was for sure: Michael Spence was not going to take a Scotch bonnet pepper lying down.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	4. Invisible Revenge

**A/N: Thank you yet again for the fab response to this - I hope it's fun to read, because it's great fun for me to write!**

**As always, if you have an idea you'd like me to use, feel free to PM me or tweet me - sdbubbles1 :)**

**Sarah x**

* * *

"You know, Ric," Serena began, putting the box in the microwave. "I don't think I should've had that last drink last night. My head is splitting," she confessed. "I really did not want to leave my bed this morning. Even Eleanor was up before I was."

"Only because she had to go to school," Ric reasoned. "Just as well you've got a lunch companion, or you'd be falling asleep at your computer," he grinned.

"I wish," she sighed. She started splitting their lunch onto two plates, and cut up some bread to go with it. Ric watched her, wondering why she wanted to have lunch with him now. After all, they'd had a fractious relationship on Keller, and she had undermined him more times than he cared to remember until it led to the disaster of all disasters. One to give Michael Spence a run for his money, even.

But all the same, here he sat, watching her microwave the pasta she and Eleanor made yesterday.

Perhaps she was just looking for some company. He'd come to recognise when Serena was up to something, and for once, she appeared perfectly innocent. She handed him a plate and cutlery before sitting down opposite him. They started to eat, until something burned his mouth. Serena's faced mirrored his look of horror and he watched as she took her reaction to the taste currently abusing her mouth.

He followed his first instinct and grabbed two glasses, filling them with the most readily available liquid – tap water. What on Earth had she put in that? He gulped the water down to cool his mouth and throat, glaring at Serena. When he was capable of speech, he scolded her, "Did you make that before or after you got drunk?!"

She couldn't speak. In fact, she seemed to be choking. He rubbed her back to calm her and loosen the muscles so she could drink the water; whatever they'd just eaten, it definitely was not a plain old red pepper. "I did _not_ put that in there!" she insisted.

"You're quite sure?" he checked. If she _had_ made this drunk, she might not have realised she'd perhaps put the wrong thing in. He suspected they'd just had Scotch bonnet peppers, which was why, despite the pint of water he'd just drank, his mouth and throat still felt like they were on fire.

"I don't even have anything like that in my kitchen! I'm not a masochist, and I'm not daft!" she defended herself, getting up for another glass of water. She was obviously sincere, and he definitely believed her. So what needed answered was how the hell Scotch bonnet peppers ended up in a perfectly benign pasta dish.

"So why did we just have our mouths burned to a crisp?" he demanded. It was a shock, to say the least, to be assaulted so sneakily and so unexpectedly.

"It'll be this whole thing with Jac and Michael," she said, and he just gave her a questioning look, wondering what she was babbling on about. She sighed and continued, "Michael has declared war on Jac."

"What?" What was she talking about? As far as Ric knew, they didn't have much contact, and when they did, they were reasonably pleasant to each other. So why was there a war between two of the sneakiest and most arrogant consultants in the hospital? And how did they somehow manage to get himself and Serena caught in the middle of it?

"It started when Michael was moronic enough to tamper with Jac's car. She then advertised his car for eight hundred pounds so he received phone calls all day about it. As far as I know, he did something to their coffee on Darwin, and I'm guessing one of the others drank it, because I know for a fact Jac was in theatre by half past eight this morning."

"And they've put Scotch bonnet peppers in your pasta, obviously thinking it was Michael's," he concluded.

"Looks like it."

Ric struggled to force this to make sense in his head; he knew Michael wasn't always smart, but he didn't think he was stupid enough to go within a million miles of anything Jac Naylor owned. Her reputation, after all, preceded her. And then Jac couldn't have been the one to drink the bad coffee this morning, which meant someone else – or the rest of Darwin – had done this to him and Serena.

He briefly wondered if Elliot knew about this. Surely he'd have been the last to get involved in all this. He was a natural peacemaker, and less than likely to do anything to cause confrontation. In fact, Elliot would have probably tried to prevent it. Unless, of course, he was the one to drink the coffee, in which case, he would have been less than pleased. And then he may have taken revenge. The other possibility that they all drank it, and were all in on this misguided attempt at payback.

And if that was the case, Ric fully intended to exact revenge on them.

"Have you got any string or thread in here by any chance?" he enquired. He had a plan to get them back: have them trash their own staffroom.

"What are you up to?" she asked, suspicion falling across her features like a waterfall.

He said nothing, but she eventually gave in. "I'm pretty sure Eleanor's friend left some fishing line in my car. Long story," she added, warning him not to ask. He guessed it involved a drunken party gone wrong, but didn't go into it; she clearly didn't want to discuss it.

"Even better," he smirked. "Can I go and get it?"

"Oh no," she replied with a smile. "No-one is getting into my car except me. Look what happened when Jac asked that boyfriend of hers to get her trainers."

"Boyfriend?" Ric asked, curious now. Jac Naylor with a boyfriend? First he'd heard of it.

"Jonny Maconie," Serena shrugged, putting on her cardigan and getting her keys. Ric opened the door for her, letting her out before him. They made their way across the freezing car park to her car, and she dug around the boot until she found a roll of fishing line. "Bingo," she said, getting back up to her usual poker straight posture.

"Thanks," he said, taking it from her. "Are you coming to help me?"

"I'm giving you your weapon, but I'm not getting caught up in this. They didn't even mean to get us. They were trying to do it to Michael," she reasoned, obviously a last ditch attempt to stop the madness. She was the sort of person who didn't like chaos and mess – and she'd admitted it before – so he understood why she was trying to keep out of it as far as humanly possible.

"Alright," he agreed. "Do you even know what I'm doing?"

"No, and I don't want to. And as far as they get to know, I didn't give you that," she dictated, nodding to the fishing line in his hands. "Whatever you're up to, you better go now so you don't get caught. I'll get us something edible for lunch if you want to come back down to AAU when you're done causing World War Three," she smiled. He nodded, and left her standing there shaking her head in amusement.

He got in the lift, but instead of heading to Keller or AAU, he pressed the button for the sixth floor. He opened the door to their staffroom; it was empty. In fact, the ward was pretty much empty. Jonny was preoccupied by a patient, Jac and Elliot were at lunch, Ollie and Tara were studying at the nurses' station and Mo was presumably in theatre.

He left the door carefully ajar, and started tying fishing line around the cupboard handles, on the chair legs, the table legs. Even on the kettle handle. Then he very carefully tied it to the door handle and sneaked out, leaving the door open. Whoever closed that door behind them was in for a shock.

He made haste to the exit and escaped Darwin unnoticed by its staff. When he got back to AAU and met Serena, he found he was exceedingly pleased with himself. "Now you can tell me what you've done to them," she smiled, handing him a sandwich.

"I tied fishing line to all the cupboards and furniture. Even the kettle," he explained. "Then tied the end to the door and left it open."

"So when they shut it, everything will go flying," she finished for him. She smirked quietly as she bit into her sandwich, and he could've sworn there was a flash of excitement in her eyes. "You're mean," she accused, but her smile was warm, so he was pretty sure she was only kidding.

"Serena, you need to learn that sometimes revenge really is sweet," he advised, and he could help himself from grinning. She was shaking her head still, a disapprovingly amused expression on her face. She didn't seem to realise that she was prettiest when she was smiling rather than frowning.

"I'll get the blame of this," she predicted. "Just you wait and see."

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	5. Closed Doors

**A/N: Thanks again for the great reviews and all the follows and favourites, and as ever, do feel free to siggest any practical jokes.**

**Sarah x**

* * *

"Anything interesting happen while I was in theatre?" Jac asked as she entered the Darwin staffroom after six tense hours operating on a teenage boy who took a nasty turn for the worse early this morning. What was he supposed to tell her? _"Oh, not much. Michael Spence tried to kill us all by pouring a load of chilli powder in the coffee, but nothing very unusual."_ Nah. That just sounded daft, even in his head.

She shut the door, and there was a loud crash. Lots of loud crashes. All the cupboards opened. The kettle tipped over and all the water poured out. The fridge flew open. The chairs flew onto their sides. And then the table finally toppled. Jonny cringed as she looked around at the destruction in sheer disbelief.

"Something you'd like to tell me?" she eventually turned to face him. She was torn between anger and cynical amusement. But he did notice the edges of her lips were turned up in appreciation of the effort the perpetrator of this chaos must have gone to. After all, Jac Naylor did respect dedication.

"Michael may or may not have put chilli powder in the coffee this morning," Jonny confessed. The astounded expression she adorned at this news. It then turned to outrage, and this was precisely why he'd chosen to omit it from their conversation. "We got rid before you left theatre, mainly because it was manky and we didn't think you'd appreciate it."

"So Michael tried to poison all of us," she surmised for him. She remained calmer than he'd expected her too, so it looked like there was no danger of her making her way down to AAU to slaughter Michael. Yet. "And did you retaliate?"

"Mo and Elliot," he admitted. She was clearly demanding answers now; her expression was impatient. "Scotch bonnet peppers in his pasta, Mo said."

"But Michael didn't eat pasta today," Jac informed him, confused. "I saw him eating a pizza in town when Elliot and I had our working lunch earlier."

"So who did Mo and Elliot just victimise?" Jonny wondered, completely mortified by the news that somebody other than Michael Spence had fallen victim to their own lunch. He went to find his best friend and took her back to see the result.

"Jeez," Mo exclaimed. "He isn't as thick as he makes out, is he?"

"Mo, it couldn't have been Michael. The pasta," Jonny clarified. "It wasn't his." The same look of horror fell over Mo's face and all three looked at each other, all wondering the same thing: who had eaten the nasty pasta?

"Well, I did wonder when Elliot said it'd be the pasta," Mo said slowly. "It was too big. The container was enough to feed two."

"Well, I know Lady Campbell and Mr. Griffin were having a lunch together today," Jonny revealed. "Chantelle mentioned it at the coffee stand." The women glared at him for not telling them this important fact. "What?! Us nurses do talk to each other!"

"Gossip like old women, more like," Jac quipped. "So Ric and Serena did this? I did think it was too structured for Michael's tiny mind. The question is, how do we get them back?"

They all thought on this for a moment; Jonny was determined to get payback on them, even if it was just to make it up to Mo and Jac for not telling them about the consultants' planned lunch. The thing was that they were two extremely intelligent people and would both be difficult to fool again. Ric was known on every ward both for his shrewd mind and good heart, and Serena was infamous for being both brainy and scarily manipulative and persuasive in nature.

They wouldn't fall for just any trick. It was going to have to be either something very clever or something very deceptive. Then it came to him; the last thing either of them would enjoy was any extended period of time stuck together. They were friends, but by all accounts, they still bickered like cat and dog. The storage room up here could be locked from the outside and they could be let out if they were needed for an emergency. It was perfect.

But how to get them there? He clapped his hands triumphantly. "The CPR dolls from that refresher Hanssen made the nurses do a couple of months ago. Do we still have them?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jac replied slowly. "What are you planning?" He could see the excitement glaze over her eyes; it was a rare sight to see in Jac Naylor, and it generally occurred when there was an unusual operation or a rare heart condition in her midst. Not at the prospect of pulling a joke at the expense of Ric and Serena.

"Well, we could put one of those dolls in the back of the end storage room and pretend it's somebody who's collapsed," he proposed.

"Say we need GS expertise and you're in theatre," Mo added to Jac, cottoning on to her friend's way of thinking.

"And lock them in," Jac finished. For the first time in Jonny's memory, the three of them were on the same wavelength.

* * *

"Hello?" Serena answered her phone. A breathless Jonny Maconie greeted her.

"Hi, Ms. Campbell," he said. "There's a patient up here who needs an emergency GS consult, and Miss Naylor is in theatre. I'd owe you one?" he asked.

Serena smiled to herself and replied, "I'll be up in a few minutes." She went to find Michael in his office and told him she was needed on Darwin and she didn't know if she'd need to operate immediately or not. AAU was reasonably quiet so she was free to go. When she got in the lift, she was met by Malick, who was puzzling over something. "A penny for your thoughts?" she smiled, pressing the _6_ button.

"I'm trying to think of a practical joke for Chantelle to repay Mary-Claire with," he explained. "You know, after she nicked her boyfriend?"

"Oh, I heard about that," she replied. She'd been saddened to hear that Chantelle had been screwed over; she was the loveliest girl Serena had ever had the pleasure to work with. "The best one if you don't want caught is probably eggs in the shoes. Put an egg right at the toe of each of her trainers and when Mary-Claire puts her feet in them, most likely in a strop, knowing her, the eggs will burst all over her feet."

"Brilliant!" Malick laughed. "And you would know this how?" he asked as the lift stopped at the first floor to let people on and off.

"When I worked at St. George's, I may have got a little annoyed with Imelda when she decided to use all my deodorant. And eat all the cupcakes. And all the crisps. You get the picture," Serena smiled. Malick was standing there chuckling until the lift reached Keller.

"Thanks," he called back as Ric got in the lift next to Serena. He went to press the button for the sixth floor but stopped when he saw it was already lit.

"Darwin too?" she asked him.

"GS consult on a patient of theirs. You?" he asked, and her head snapped around. Why did they need _two_ GS consultants?

"Same," she replied. Perhaps it was just a tricky case that needed the both of them. The fact they never agreed on anything was bound to come in handy sometimes, wasn't it? They got out onto Darwin and found Mo and Jonny waiting on them. "Where's the crisis?" she asked.

"End storage room," Mo pointed. "Found him collapsed in the back corner. I think there's something wrong with his liver; he's jaundiced."

Serena nodded and both she and Ric swiftly made their way to the storage room. In the back corner, they saw a figure with blood at their mouth. But as soon as they were in, the door shut behind them. The lights were on, so they could see, but Serena heard the lock click. Something told her that they'd been to their staffroom, and were none too pleased about the disaster zone that must have unfolded.

But first things first, they checked the patient. And something definitely wasn't right: "CPR dummy?" Ric asked, kicking the arm lightly. Yep. Definitely an inanimate object.

Serena knelt down and put her finger in the blood, putting it to her mouth. "Strawberry jam," she confirmed their suspicions. They'd been had. And then it hit Ric.

"They've locked us in."

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to review and tell me your thoughts!  
Sarah x**


	6. Wrong Idea

**A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews once more - hope you're all enjoying this. And as for this chapter...it's not the end of this joke. There is another part of it to be revealed in the next chapter!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

"I can open the door," Serena insisted after ten minutes of Ric attempting the very same. Not for the lack of effort, though, she found herself unable to pick the lock. "I'll get them for this," she promised, absolutely positively seething.

"What happened to keeping out of it?!" he demanded.

"They've locked us in a cupboard, Ric!" she exclaimed disbelievingly. "Do you actually expect me to be pleased about that?!"

"No, but revenge isn't going to help the situation," he told her, his tone deliberately calming and level. It was easily seen he was trying to stop her plotting anything, as it had already gone far enough.

"Is that what you were thinking when you rigged their staffroom to collapse?" she demanded, turning to meet his gaze. "This is your fault," she accused. "If you hadn't messed with them, we wouldn't be here. I would be finishing up, ready to go home. Instead I'm stuck here with you!" she continued, with slightly more venom than was strictly necessary.

"Am I not good enough company for you?" he challenged jokingly, but Serena was in no mood for his smart comments. She was tired, irritated, hungover (she really needed to curb this wine habit of hers) and had spent all day on AAU with Michael. She didn't appreciate being locked in a storeroom with Ric Griffin.

He walked away from her and sat down on the floor, his back against the wall, to make himself a little more comfortable. They were here until Mo and Jonny saw fit to release them. Or there was an emergency. Or the hospital caught fire. Whichever came first, Serena wasn't too fussed if it got her out of here. She didn't mind Ric – she even quite liked him in small doses – but the prospect of such an undetermined amount of time cooped up with him and his irritatingly calm complacency did not appeal to her.

"How can you be so relaxed about this?" she almost shouted. "They must think they're very funny, laughing out there while we're stuck in here."

"Is _that_ what you're worried about?" he chuckled incredulously. "That they're laughing at you? Of course they are! They think you helped me, and they've got us back for it!"

"I told you! I told you I'd get blamed for it!"

"You could just see it as an opportunity for some peace and quiet," he suggested with a soft smile. She saw his point; the lights were on, it was warm enough, and it wasn't terribly cluttered. It could have been worse. It could've been an AAU storeroom.

"That's not the point," she argued. "I should be at home cooking dinner and God only knows what else."

"For God's sake, Serena. Just think of this as the sleep you missed out on last night. You're hungover anyway," he reminded her. "The best thing you can do, for both of us, is sit down, shut up and go to sleep!" he told her sternly.

She glared at him before she sat down next to him, finally accepting she was at the mercy of the evil staff of Darwin. It annoyed her more than anything else, but she had to admit to herself that if the roles were reversed, she probably would've found it hilariously entertaining.

"How do you know I barely slept last night?" she asked him, realising she'd never told him.

"You mentioned it at lunch," he dismissed it.

"No," she drawled in her usual fashion. "I said I had one too many drinks last night. I didn't say anything about not sleeping."

"Marks under your eyes," he told her. "Happens every time you're tired."

"I didn't think anyone ever noticed that," she confessed, not sure how she felt about him paying her that level of attention.

"Well, I do," he retorted. "Will you just go to sleep, or am I going to have to kill you?" he threatened, and she realised her inability to shut up was getting on his already frayed nerves.

She put her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to sleep away her time here. It wasn't getting her very far, though. She kept planning all the things she could do to Mo, Jonny and Jac – there was no way she wasn't in on this – once she got out. All the jokes she pulled over the years. Eggs in the shoes, as she suggested to Malick. The most efficient thing she could come up with would be to take the screws out the computer chairs. Or maybe replace their sugar with salt. Or cling film at eye level behind the doors? The possibilities were endless, and she'd done many of them before, usually on Imelda.

"It isn't working," she announced into the silence.

"What do you expect if you're going to do _that_?" he challenged, referring to the way she was sitting bolt upright, stiff with annoyance and caution. "Serena, you can't expect to fall asleep when you're not relaxed!" he told her.

"Stop shouting at me!" she snapped. "I'm not a child."

"Really?" he replied sarcastically. "Because you're doing a magnificent impression of my grandson."

"Stop nagging me," she warned, her patience wearing dangerously thin as she resisted the temptation to open her eyes to see the amused smirk she just knew he was wearing. She actually hadn't realised she knew him so well before now, but she was finding that she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Come here," he sighed. She did open one eye this time, and looking around to see if he was actually serious. And he _was_ serious. She glared at him, and of course, he completely disregarded it. "Oh, grow up," he ordered her. She was hesitant, but she did do it; she shimmied herself closer to him. He put his arm around her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, becoming very wary of him now.

"Helping you relax," he replied. In fairness, though, she was more comfortable leaning against him than she was poker-straight. Deciding there was no harm in it, she let herself react by resting her head in the crook of his neck. She really was tired, actually. After drinking too much and tossing and turning all night, she was pretty exhausted. Maybe Ric was right and this was a blessing in disguise.

As she drifted slowly toward sleep, she felt Ric smile into her hair. "Silly woman," he chuckled. She allowed herself a small smile as she let everything go and fell asleep.

She woke with a start when Jonny's loud Scottish voice shouted to them, "Wakey-wakey!" She stirred and woke Ric by shaking his hand. "No, seriously," Jonny pushed. "Hanssen's wondering why your cars are still here. It's nearly ten."

"Then why are you still here?" Serena snapped as Ric helped her up.

"I'm on a double shift," he explained. "Come on, get to it!" he ordered urgently, clapping his hands at them. The pair of them brushed past Jonny to get out onto the ward. Looking down at herself, Serena discovered she looked nothing short of scruffy; her trousers were creased, her shirt was falling off at one shoulder and her hair wasn't sitting right. She felt her lipstick had smudged when she fell asleep leaning on Ric, and she was slightly unsteady with being woken so quickly.

"Ms. Campbell, Mr. Griffin," Henrik Hanssen asked behind them. "Might I ask what you are doing in the hospital at this hour?" he asked. "You were both supposed to clock off at six o'clock, or am I mistaken?"

Serena was in half a mind to tell Hanssen exactly what was going on, but she wanted revenge too much to tell him – he'd put an end to it. So instead she thought up a quick excuse: "We were working on a case. Mrs. Holden, Keller bed three? We came up for some insight from Miss Naylor but she'd already left," she rambled, surprised at how easily the lie came out. Jonny looked really quite impressed.

"I must say, Ms. Campbell," Hanssen added. "You do look rather worse for wear," he informed her, eyeing her slipping shirt, rubbed-off lipstick and slightly messy hair with a glance. Part of her thought she saw a rather odd look in his face. Oh, no..wait, he didn't think...no, he wouldn't think _that_. Would he? It worried her now, that Hanssen was wondering if she and Ric were...involved. Surely he didn't think that? Was it possible that he'd added their disappearance with her post-sleep state and come up with the entirely wrong idea?

She caught Jonny stifling a laugh to Hanssen's right, just out of the Swede's line of sight. She was very tempted to wring his neck, there and then.

"Long day," she smiled. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'd better be getting home," she said, glaring at Jonny as she passed him. Ric quickly followed her and got in the lift beside her. "Ric, if you tell anyone about that, I will make your life a living hell," she warned him, albeit with a tiny smile.

"Of course you will," he sighed. When the doors opened for the third floor, he surprised her; he kissed her cheek and said, "Good night, Serena."

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to review and let me know what you think!  
Sarah x**


	7. Soggy Situation

**A/N: OK, so I wasn't going to involve Hanssen, but hey-ho. And thanks again for the fab response to this :)**

**Sarah x**

* * *

As Serena strode towards Hanssen's office after being called to a worryingly unexpected meeting, she came across Michael on the fifth floor corridor, not too far from the CEO's office, looking rather pleased with himself. She'd have known that look anywhere – he was up to something. "What have you done?" she stopped him before he passed.

"If you're going into Hanssen's office, just don't close the door behind you," he advised.

"Michael!" she exclaimed. "You cannot do anything to Hanssen. The rest of us, fine, but pulling practical jokes on your boss is _not_ a good idea!" she explained heatedly.

"Why are you bothered? It's not like it's going to affect you, is it?" he demanded. "Just sit there and watch it happen."

"I will not sit there and watch you do anything to him," she asserted. "Whatever it is, I'm going to remove it before he gets there, because, as much as you annoy me, I don't want him to sack you for being so stupid!"

There was something odd about his smirk when she announced she was foiling his plans. Almost like he'd expected it. But he didn't seem too bothered. He merely shrugged and walked away, leaving her to make her way to Hanssen's office.

Standing in the doorway, she looked around for any evidence of foul play. And then she noticed a five litre bucket, presumably filled with water, suspended high in the air with what she suspected was the same fishing line she lent to Ric before. Hanssen wouldn't have noticed it if he didn't look for it, it was so high.

* * *

"Mr. Spence," Hanssen stopped him before he got in the lift. "Could you please ask Ms. Campbell to come and see me before she goes home?"

"Um, I think she came to see you," he shrugged. "Saw her up here." Hanssen nodded and proceeded to his office, closing the door behind him.

To his shock, he heard an almighty splash and a shout of, "Michael, you idiot! I said I was undoing it! Now I'm drenched, you defective moron – oh...Mr. Hanssen..."

He turned to find Serena Campbell standing on his desk, extremely wet, wiping runaway make up from under her eyes. "Tell me, Ms. Campbell, do you verbally abuse Mr. Spence on a regular basis?" he asked, taking in the sight before him; the normally dignified Ms. Campbell was in an even worse state than she was the last time he saw her. And he had his suspicions about what she and Ric Griffin were doing last night, too.

"Sorry, Mr. Hanssen," she apologised. "I thought he came back and did that on purpose." Henrik had to admit that she saw the logic in her initial outrage – Michael Spence probably would have done that, had he thought he'd have got off with it.

He watched as she looked around her, seeing the hazard of the pool of water on the desk around her, and her hard-heeled boots not gripping the surface. She was positively drenched. Her shirt had turned see-through, her hair was sticking out in odd places after she ran her hand through it, and her make up had run all over her face.

He went over and held out his hands to help her down, but she still slipped. She knocked them both onto the floor, her on top of him. She was not very heavy, but she was stronger than he'd anticipated, and far more powerful. Her presence on top of him was unexpected, and he almost felt inferior to her for some unknown reason.

He hadn't realised until now that his arms were wrapped around her to stop her hurting herself. She really _was_ soaked to the skin. Chances were that his suit would be wet when they stood up.

He now understood exactly why Serena was going to wreak havoc upon Michael – Henrik felt like he would even go as far to assist her at this point. But first he needed to find out why this happened in the first place. There was a reason Serena Campbell's sodden body was covering his. He moved his hands upwards to push her up by the shoulders slightly, just to be sure she wasn't hurt – that was some knock they'd just had, and she'd not moved. He briefly wondered whether she'd hit her head.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, slightly breathless from the air being knocked out of him. He was not used to such physical contact, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. He guessed Serena wouldn't be too bothered about that; he'd seen her with her colleagues. She was prone to patting their arm or shoulder in support, comfort or thanks.

Her dark eyes met his. "I'm fine. I'm going to murder Michael, but I'm fine. Are you hurt? I'm not exactly light," she added.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with your weight," he scolded lightly. "I'll live," he added with a small smirk.

"Sorry," she groaned. "This day just gets better and better," she complained, struggling to her feet and helping him up too, dragging him up, one hand on his elbow and the other tightly grasping his hand.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked curiously, once they were both on their feet once more. She looked very embarrassed by the whole situation, but he could also tell she was fuming.

"First, you pull me into your office, probably about last night," she began. "Then Michael attempts to soak you, and I get wet trying to prevent it, and then I fall on top of you," she continued. "Just fantastic."

"Ms. Campbell, I didn't order you here," he revealed to her. It was perfectly true, because he hadn't decided to talk to her about last night until he saw Michael in the corridor. "And I hate to say it, but I believe _you_ were the true target of this." She gave him an odd, questioning look. "Think about it. Mr. Spence, like most, knows I close my door every time I enter my office, so what harm would it cause me if I am not sitting down yet? A pool of water is easily enough cleaned up. I believe he let you know he did something to my office in the knowledge you would try and intervene, and I was due back in my office while you were here."

"Of course he did," she sighed. "Wait, you didn't order me up here?" she added.

"No."

"But Chrissie said-"

"Did it ever occur to you that Mr. Spence lied to her, too?" he said. He continued, "I would, however, like to ask you what was going on last night. I checked; Mrs. Holden's case is not complicated in the slightest. Which begs the question, what were you and Mr. Griffin still doing here at almost ten o'clock at night? And why were _you_ in such a state when I finally happened across you both?"

She didn't reply, and it really did make him suspicious now. Serena and Ric sometimes argued like cat and dog and at other times got on like a house on fire. And it didn't look like they'd been having a professional disagreement, put it that way. Ric had looked as content as always, and Serena had looked rather flustered and worse for wear. "Nothing is going on between myself and Ric," she assured him. "I saw the look on your face," she added when he went to open his mouth. "It's not what you think."

"Then what was it?" he challenged her.

"We fell asleep," she replied, but he could see she was hiding something. "In the storage cupboard. That Nurse Maconie and Miss Effanga locked us in," she added reluctantly under his glare.

"Why did they lock you in a storage room?" he asked, totally confused now.

"Because Ric made their staffroom collapse," she explained. "And he did that because they tampered with our lunch, thinking it was Michael's, because he put chilli powder in their coffee after Jac advertised his car for sale."

"And why did Miss Naylor do that?" he persisted.

"She did that because Michael took the ignition fuse from her car on Christmas Eve, because he thought it'd be funny," she finished.

"Is this what is commonly known as a prank war?" he enquired, realising that everyone was out to get each other in the most entertaining manner they could dream up.

"Yep," she answered.

"So why did Mr. Spence cause this disaster zone?"

"Because he likes to irritate me," she said with a dry, accepting smirk. "You're about to put a stop to all this, aren't you?"

He stopped and thought about it for a moment; yes, ending this silliness would have been the wisest thing to do. But, truth be told, it wasn't really affecting patient care – yet – and it wasn't affecting their work ethic. They were clearly doing it on breaks and after hours, or just when they were due to leave. And some of the incidents Serena had just relayed to him _did_ sound rather amusing.

That, and he would rather like to repay this particular favour to Michael Spence.

"No, I am not," he finally told her, seeing the surprise in the woman's face. "Quite the opposite, in fact. Ms. Campbell, are you in a position to acquire the keys to Mr. Spence's car?"

* * *

**Hope this is alright!  
Please feel free to review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	8. Scrambled Eggs

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to update, and thank you all so much for all the wonderful reviews!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

Malick approached Chantelle at the nurses' station, and she looked up at him. "What's up?" she asked, worried by the seriously determined look on his face.

"Nothing," he replied. "Do you think you could get half a dozen eggs for me at lunch? Ran out this morning and I'm in theatre most of the day," he expanded.

"Of course," she beamed. "My dad hates not having eggs in the house. Says it's the best way to make dinner when mum's out. Although, I think that might be because he can't cook very much else," she rambled on.

"When do you clock off?" he asked her.

"Um, half-five. Why?" she replied.

"No reason," he said, leaving her there confused. But she couldn't linger on her confusion; a man with needing a appendectomy was being wheeled onto the ward. So she got to work, and tried to remind herself every half an hour to pick up Malick's eggs while she was out at lunch. She was running around since a headless chicken, almost grateful Serena had been sacrificed to AAU – at least she could curb Michael's occasional referral-sprees. But to be honest, Chantelle would rather have had the extra pair of hands.

"You can take your lunch now," Ric came to tell her, after four hours of running around without any respite. It wasn't long before she was sitting on a bench with a shop-bought sandwich, bottle of juice, bag of crisps and Malick's eggs by her side.

To her relief by the time she returned, the ward was, in comparison, calm. Ric was in theatre, Malick was running the ship, and Marie-Claire was due in at four. Then it was hand-over time before she went home for the night. "I must say," a voice behind her said; she turned and found Henrik Hanssen looming over her. "You are excelling in your new position, Nurse Lane."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Hanssen," she replied, rather touched that he'd noticed her effort. "Glad to have you back, to be honest," she added, typing in a patient's details in the computer. "The lady who replaced you was..." she tried to say, but she couldn't bring herself to say what she really made of Imelda Cousins.

"As far as I've heard," he continued for her. "She had her own agenda, enforced and bypassed protocol when it suited her, almost dismissed Mr. Griffin, attempted to suspend Miss Naylor, removed Mr. Spence's girlfriend from the hospital, attempted to halt Mr. Hope's Hertzig project, forced Ms. Campbell to remain on AAU and offended almost everyone in the hospital," he finished. "I rather think that sounds like a minor disaster, don't you?"

"Well, yeah," Chantelle finally concluded. "I think I actually preferred it when Ms. Campbell was in charge. At least she wasn't determined to sack Mr. Griffin."

"Chantelle!" Malick called. She looked up at Hanssen apologetically, but he merely gave her a tiny smile and gestured for her to come to Malick's aid. She went over to the registrar, in the locker room, and he shut the door.

"Have you got those eggs?" he asked. It was the first time since this morning he'd been out of theatre for long enough to actually speak to her. She went into her locker and handed the box to him. "Those trainers are Marie-Claire's, aren't they?" he enquired, pointing at a pair of fairly worn white and pink trainers.

"Yeah," she replied. "She was in a rush last night. Must've forgotten to put them in her locker."

Chantelle hadn't quite forgiven Marie-Claire for stealing her boyfriend; normally, she was the most forgiving person she knew, but she was finding working with Marie-Claire difficult after that New Year's party.

Malick picked up the trainers and handed them to Chantelle. What was he doing? He opened the box of eggs and took two out. "Put these," he told her, holding up an egg in each hand, "in her shoes, right to the toe."

"But when she puts them on, won't they break all over her feet?" she replied confused.

"Exactly," he smirked.

"But that's just mean!" she exclaimed. "You can't just do that to her."

"Chantelle," he said patiently. "She's made jibes at you since the day you got that promotion, she flirted with and nicked your boyfriend and she's generally a stroppy, cheeky cow towards you," he reasoned with her. "It's time you got some payback."

"But two wrongs don't make a right!" she argued. "My mum always says that revenge isn't worth the backlash."

"You won't get caught," he encouraged.

"How do you know?" she demanded. "She isn't stupid; she'll know it was us."

"No, she won't," he contradicted her. "Haven't you heard there's a prank war going on? She won't know who it is; according to Ric, we're at war with Darwin, Serena's at war with them too, and she's after Michael's blood, Jac and Michael are having a good go at it. I heard even Elliot Hope got involved. She'll think it was one of the rest of them. And Serena did it to Imelda years ago and never got caught," he added as an afterthought.

Chantelle considered his rationalisation and, as much as she didn't believe in payback, she never actually got Marie-Claire back for her sins. In a very rare moment of wickedness, she took the eggs from Malick and placed them in the shoes, rolling them down to the toes. "This is really bad," she reminded him. He just grinned and patted her back proudly.

She replaced the trainers back exactly where Marie-Claire left them last night. Ric entered, and asked them, "Can you see that Mrs. Smith is kept comfortable when she wakes up? I'm needed up on Darwin. Let's just hope they don't lock me in a storage room this time."

"Oh, so _that's_ why you're at war with Darwin," Chantelle realised.

"Yes," he replied with a smirk. "They decided it would be fun to lock me and Ms. Campbell up in a confined space for several hours. Not to mention Serena was hungover and irritable," he added. He left and Chantelle went to see that Mrs. Smith was well-cared for.

It was quarter-past four and Marie-Claire still hadn't showed up for her shift. She was a decent nurse, granted, but her personality wasn't very endearing to Chantelle, and it was frustrating when a nurse was so late while everyone else was grafting. She finally showed up at half-past, and Chantelle immediately rounded on her. "Marie-Claire," she hailed her over before she got to the locker room. "This is the third time this week you've been late. It's unacceptable, so please consider this a verbal warning."

It always took a lot to discipline Marie-Claire; it was difficult as she was always so moody but she strong-willed, proven by the way she simply stormed into the locker room. Malick came behind Chantelle, looking at his watch with a grin. "You can thank Serena for this when you see her." He sat down in the computer chair and waited for the result of their little project. "Three...two.._one_..."

"What the hell is _that_?!" they heard Marie-Claire scream from the locker room. Malick had to disguise his laughter with a cough, and Chantelle, unexpectedly, found herself forcing her face to remain straight.

Marie-Claire stormed onto the ward in ill-temper. "Did someone put _eggs_ in my trainers?!" she demanded of no-one in particular. She turned to Malick, handing her the trainers.

He looked inside the shoe as he feigned curiosity, as if he didn't already know what he'd find, and replied calmly, "Yep. Definitely raw eggs."

"It'll be this prank war thing that's going on," Chantelle chipped in. This was the first time she'd actually been at ease with lying to someone. Probably the last time, too, but it was worth it just to see the look of utter disgust and disbelief on the Irish nurse's face. "So far, I've heard that Ms. Campbell got extremely wet yesterday, and she and Mr. Griffin both ate some kind of hot pepper type thing, and were locked in a storage room. Miss Naylor and Mr. Spence have been messing around with each other's cars, too, and I think something happened with the coffee on Darwin," she concluded, having asked Malick exactly what he knew.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, stalking back into the locker room, leaving Chantelle, Malick and every other member of staff in the vicinity to giggle at her "misfortune." Even Chantelle had to admit it: sometimes revenge really was worth it.

* * *

**Hope this is alright!  
Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	9. Confetti and a Hot Water Bottle

**A/N: Thanks again for the lovely reviews, and I hope this satisfies!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

Serena sighed when she spotted that eight-year-old son of a patient give Chrissie cheek yet again. She suspected that it was merely a mixture of fear, nerves and idleness rather than a case of him being a spoilt brat. She went over to see what was going on when Chrissie started becoming visibly irritated. "Everything alright?" she asked with a smile.

"Richie here was just telling me this is the most boring place he's ever been in," Chrissie sighed, taking the boy's mother's blood pressure. Serena tried to think of a way to give Chrissie his tired, injured mother a bit of a break from him. Then it came to her.

"Tell me, Richie," Serena began. "Do you know what a prank war is?"

"Course I do. Do them all the time in the playground," he instantly replied.

"Well, there's one going on just now, and I could use your help," she smiled, trying to make him feel important. "Do you mind if I borrow him for a little while?" she asked his mother. She nodded and Serena turned to the boy. "Do you know where Mr. Spence's office is yet?"

"The American guy?" he replied. "Over there," he pointed. "Don't you share an office with him?"

"Yes, I do," she answered. "Are you sneaky?" He nodded, his interest picking up as Serena knew it would. This was the best was to safely get him out of Chrissie's hair for a few minutes while she was tending to his mother. "Then I'm sending you on a mission," she announced. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it," she began, running the clichéd lines from almost every spy movie in existence. "Is to sneak into mine and Mr. Spence's office, take the car keys from his coat pocket and bring them to me without being caught. You'll need to be very careful – Michael's got eyes like a hawk. Do you accept this mission?" she finished, and she could tell he was taking it seriously now.

"Yes, ma'am!" he replied.

"Off you go then," she smiled, patting his back lightly. As he left them, hiding his small body behind curtains and tables, she turned to Chrissie with a slight smirk. "That should keep him occupied just long enough for you to take Miss. Muir's obs in peace."

"Thank you," Chrissie said sincerely. Serena decided to go to the vending machine along to corridor to get him a reward for his "mission." As she put the coins in the machine, Jac Naylor appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"I hear Michael set you up," Jac stated. "Something to do with you, Hanssen and a bucket of water, I presume?" she asked.

"How do you know that?" Serena asked suspiciously. Hanssen wouldn't have told anyone, and she hadn't mentioned the details to anyone. Jac pulled out her phone and flicked through until she found what she was looking for. She handed Serena her phone. Gracing the screen was a rather undignified photo of herself, soaked to the skin, lying face down on top of Henrik Hanssen.

"I'm guessing it was a hidden camera prank," Jac explained, and for the first time Serena had witnessed, she was openly grinning. "Michael takes full credit, of course. Emailed this round half the hospital yesterday. I take it you're not going to let him off with this?"

"Of course I'm not!" Serena replied. "What do you take me for?" she added, an evil glint in her eyes. Now Michael really had done it. Whatever Hanssen was planning, Serena intended to escalate that ten-fold. "Though you're not entirely innocent yourself," she accused, remembering the night before Michael's antics. "You had me locked in a cupboard with Ric for hours on end."

"Yeah, but you made our staffroom fall apart," Jac argued.

"No, I didn't. That was Ric," she clarified, leaving out that she'd given him the fishing line. In her eyes, it didn't really matter anyway; he would've acquired it one way or another. "I did try and tell him not to."

"Oh," Jac said, obviously surprised by the news that Serena hadn't actually went up and destroyed the place. "I'll be sure to tell Mo and Jonny that." Just then, Jac's phone rang and she had to go, leaving Serena to return to AAU. As she walked through the double doors, she spotted the little boy quietly beckoning her over at his mother's bedside.

She looked around; Michael was busy getting Sacha up to speed on who was who after he came back from lunch. She went over to him, and he surreptitiously handed her the keys. He was obviously well-practiced at this, making her glad she wasn't his teacher. She handed him the bag of sweets, and said, "Mission accomplished," with a smile. She put the keys in her pocket and went to find Michael.

"Michael," she said. "I'll be back in an hour. I have a meeting with Hanssen," she explained, not technically lying to him.

"I'll bet you do," he smirked. "You two looked very cosy the other day."  
"Only because you put us in that position," she retorted. "Just out of interest, where did you hide the camera?"

"Behind one of Hanssen's big plants," he grinned.

Serena sighed and left him to it. She made her way quickly up to Hanssen's office, taking the stairs because it was quicker. She knocked on the door and heard, "Come in!"

She opened the door and hung Michael's keys from her finger with an open smile. He said nothing but picked up a small plastic tub, some duct tape and a hot water bottle and led her out of the office. When they reached the car park, Serena felt compelled to ask, "What exactly is the plan?"

"We're going to fill his air conditioning," he said simply.

"Please, God, tell me you mean his car air-con," Serena joked, eyeing the hot water bottle next. "What do you plan on doing with this?" she asked curiously, prodding the red hot water bottle he was carrying.

"You'll see," he smirked. She unlocked the car and sat down in the driver's seat while Hanssen got in the passenger side; he opened the tub to reveal hundreds of pieces of cut up confetti-like bits of paper. That must've taken ages to produce. And, knowing Hanssen, he probably did it all by hand. "Put some of this in the vents," he ordered her, and she could see where this was going now. She grinned as she stuffed the tiny pieces of paper into the driver's side heater and the windscreen heater, while Hanssen attended to the passenger side and middle ones, handing her the hot water bottle to free his hands.

"Turn on the ignition and make sure the radio starts up," he told her, picking stray bits of paper off his suit. She did as she was ordered and turned the key. The radio went on and she turned the car off again. Hanssen turned the volume dial up to full, and turned the fan switch up full blast. Then he got out and went behind the car. He knelt down and examined the size of the exhaust pipe. "Push the hot water bottle onto the pipe, please. I've removed the inner seal so it should be a little more flexible."

Confused, she knelt down beside him and tried to force hot water bottle onto the exhaust pip but she wasn't physically strong enough. "It won't go on!" she told him, almost throwing the toys out of the metaphoric pram. His large hands wrapped themselves around hers and together they forced it on. Serena held it in place while Henrik wrapped the duct tape around the top several times until it was secure. He lifted the bottle up and carefully balanced it on the pipe so Michael wouldn't notice.

"And the point of that was..." Serena began for him. The paper in the air conditioning vents was obvious, but the hot water bottle idea was more intelligent.

"When Mr. Spence attempts to move, nothing will happen as the exhaust is being blocked, collecting the exhaust gases as it does so," he explained to her. "Then the bottle will burst, making a very loud noise as it does so, and there will be no permanent damage to his car."

"You're more mischievous than any of us give you any credit for," she informed him, locking the car up again.

"Am I to take that as a compliment, Ms. Campbell?" he asked her, and she swore there was a glint of fun wickedness in his eyes. And by his ideas, she suspected this was not his first time doing this.

"Of course," she grinned. "Michael goes home at six, so how about we wait at the door and watch the fun?" she suggested. Hanssen smirked and nodded in agreement. "And did you know Michael hid a camera in your office and sent a rather undignified picture of us around the staff?"

"No, I didn't," he replied. "I suppose he thinks he's amusing now?"

"It's Michael Spence," she reminded him with a smile. "Of course he does."

* * *

**Hope this is alright!  
Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	10. Taylor Swift and the Big Bang

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews, and as always, suggestions and ideas are welcome :)**

**Sarah x**

* * *

"Would've thought you had homes to go to," Jac Naylor commented when she found Hanssen and Serena loitering about the main entrance as she left the place for the day. However, when she saw the smirk on Hanssen's face and the ill-disguised amusement on Serena's, her interest picked up. "What are you two up to?"

"Would you like to watch something entertaining, Miss Naylor?" Hanssen asked her. There was an odd glint in his eyes she'd never seen before. Almost like he was pulling an evil stroke of his own. But then she remembered it was Hanssen, and he was far too mature to partake in their games. "As I understand it, don't you have an axe to grind with Michael Spence at the moment?"

She looked between the pair for a moment. They were definitely up to something. Revenge for the Serena-falling-on-top-Hanssen-while-soaked-to-the-skin situation. Not to mention the fact there was a photo going viral round the hospital of the resulting awkwardness. Just then, Michael came strutting arrogantly out of the doors and called, "Goodnight!" to them on his way past.

Serena was barely hiding a sweetly evil grin when she replied to him, "'Night, Michael." _Definitely_ up to something. Jac couldn't resist; despite the hard frost falling around them and her desire to get into the warmth of her car, she leaned against the wall next to Hanssen. It wasn't often that she found two of the most strangely cagey and professional people she knew up to no good.

She watched with interest as Michael unlocked his car and got in the driver's seat, putting on his seat belt. Then he turned the ignition and she saw brightly coloured confetti spew from the air conditioning vents, and heard a roaring chorus of "_...we-ee are never ever __ever__ getting back together, you go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me, but we-eee are never ever __ever __ever getting back together..._" as he batted away the pieces of paper.

She had to laugh – he was covered in confetti as his car was blasting Taylor Swift's voice across the car park. He was, predictably, visibly annoyed. And Serena, predictably, was standing there laughing, thoroughly pleased with herself. What she hadn't expected was the sound of chuckling from Hanssen.

"You were in on this?" she asked of him, not quite believing he would have done such a thing. Perhaps Ms. Campbell was leading him astray.

"It was his idea," Serena supplied, still intently watching as Michael regained his composure. Jac returned her gaze to the American while he turned the radio down and brushed away the last of the confetti from the dashboard, finally setting off. Except he wasn't going anywhere. Behind the car, however, a red balloon-type object was rapidly inflating. Michael looked puzzled until a deafening bang resonated throughout the car park when it burst. Now _that_ simply had to be Hanssen's idea.

Michael got out of the car, and Jac couldn't help but let herself laugh at him. The fact that Henrik Hanssen had devised this revenge plot made it all the more hilarious. Michael was currently making his way to the back of his car; he knelt to the ground and picked up what was left of whatever Hanssen and Serena had blocked his tailpipe with – probably hot water bottle or something as a balloon wouldn't have taken that much exhaust gases before it burst.

"You're an evil genius, you know that?" she credited Hanssen.

"Coming from the queen of evil geniuses, I shall take that as a compliment," he replied, armed, as always, with a quick-witted remark.

Michael came striding over to them, looking very annoyed. Uh-oh. "Naylor!" he shouted. "I should've known you were up to something. You've been too quiet!"

"Wasn't me," she claimed her innocence, knowing he wouldn't believe her. After all, when had she ever been innocent? He raised his eyebrows sceptically, and she returned his stare determinedly. However, she wasn't going to tell him it was Serena and Hanssen. Mostly because she could use their obvious expertise (she'd also heard that the eggs placed in Nurse Carter's trainers was being credited to Serena's past exploits) and part of her wanted to know just what Hanssen was capable of.

"How did you even get my keys?" he demanded. Actually, that was a good question. Though wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. She decided Serena must have sneaked in and got them, or perhaps sent someone else under the pretense of being sent to his car to collect something.

"_I _didn't!"

"Yeah, right," he said sarcastically. Jac knew that Hanssen and Serena were not going to own up, and she couldn't blame them. Serena had been claiming to be staying out of this and Hanssen was oblivious until Serena landed on top of him. And Michael probably believed Hanssen incapable of such sabotage, and believed Serena's guise of impartiality. And that could be useful for when she really did get Michael back for what happened in he staffroom and the resulting misguided vengeance attempts.

She glanced at Hanssen and Serena for back-up, and Serena piped up, "Jac was in meetings all morning." A lie, but coming from Serena, it was convincing.

"And she was in theatre the rest of the day," Hanssen added for her. "I believe Mr. Hope said she didn't even find the time for lunch."

Michael seemed to accept it couldn't have been Jac who rigged his car from the lies they told, both to cover themselves and to absolve her of any guilt. Unsurprisingly, Michael turned on them. "And how do I know it wasn't you two?" he challenged.

"I've made it quite clear to both you and Ric that I want nothing to do with this childishness," she told him. Jac was really quite impressed by how convincingly the woman could lie. She didn't bat an eyelid.

"But I set you up," he reminded her, obviously confused. He obviously didn't understand that, though Serena and Hanssen were lying about it, some people actually had no need for retaliation. Not many, but there were a few who ignored it.

"And I refuse to be as daft as you," she retorted with a mocking smile when he glared at her for her contempt.

"And you know me better than to expect me to get involved in such infantile chaos," Henrik said in his usual formal manner. He was a good liar too. It appeared Jac had underestimated the abilities of her colleagues. They were far more devious and underhanded than she'd thought. Well, she'd known Serena could be shifty if she wanted something, but Hanssen was usually as straight as an arrow. "Even if you did set Ms. Campbell up to fall on top of me."

"Actually, I only set her up for a gallon of water to fall on her," Michael answered coolly. "I didn't mean her to slip, but I'd be lying if I said seeing you two on floor wasn't fun to watch. Pity the sound wasn't working, though. That would've been even better."

"Ah, yes," Hanssen began. "Ms. Campbell said you'd hidden a video camera in my office and distributed a certain shot around the hospital." Jac had to stifle a snigger at the memory of Serena lying face down on top of Hanssen. Part of her wondered what had been said then; after all, what could they say when they were put in that position?

"Yep," he grinned. "Well, if it wasn't any of you, someone else must be more devious than any of us are giving them credit for," he theorised. "See you tomorrow." He swaggered away once more, flicking bits of confetti off the seat before he sat down and put his seatbelt on. And this time he managed to drive away without incident.

As soon as he was out of the vicinity, Serena was in stitches of laughter. Hanssen, while he was also laughing quietly, found some sense of logic. "The camera was not working properly. That explains why he didn't know it was us."

"You'd better hope he can't lip-read," Jac joked, bringing a wide smile to Henrik's face. She turned to face Serena again. "Is it true you did the eggs in the trainers thing on Imelda Cousins all those years ago?"

"Malick opened his big mouth, didn't he?" Serena replied. "Yes, I played a multitude of practical jokes on the lovely Imelda Cousins, including putting eggs in her shoes."

"No wonder she didn't like you," Jac laughed. "I'd better get going," she told them, remembering she was late for her drink with Jonny. "'Night," she added.

"Goodnight, Miss Naylor."

"'Night, Jac."

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
****Please feel free to review and tell me what you thought!  
****Sarah x**


	11. Shockingly Sneaky

**A/N: First, sorry for not updating sooner. I got distracted.**

**Second, thank you for all the lovely reviews on this so far :)**

**And third, if you ever get an opportunity to do this yourself, take it - it's so much funnier to watch first hand.**

**Sarah x**

* * *

"I've got an idea," Jonny announced to Jac deviously. "How do you feel about pulling a wee joke on Sacha?"

"Sacha?" Jac repeated. "What's he ever done to us?" she demanded. She had to confess she was slightly protective of Sacha; he was the only one who gave her chance after chance and didn't question her. Though it would be funny to get him like Serena and Hanssen had got Michael. That had been hilarious to watch. She went home laughing that day.

"Nothing," Jonny replied. "He just thinks he's safe," he winked, and Jac had to smile. The reign of terror she'd started wasn't complete until Sacha Levy was looking over his shoulder. And if she didn't, Serena or Michael would.

"What did you have in mind?" Jac smirked into her coffee.

"We'll need a patient on board," he said. "Any of yours needing cheering up?"

"I know just the girl," Jac smiled. "Daniella Johnson, bay three. She's waiting on surgery but we need to wait for Hanssen to convince the Board to clear it first, so she could probably do with a laugh. Why?"

"Well," he began, and found she was enjoying this cunning, slightly evil side to Jonny. He wasn't as soft as everyone thought he was. "We'll get him up her the same way we got Mr. Griffin and Ms. Campbell up here, but we'll get Daniella to pretend she needs a GS examination, then she can do some acting."

"That won't work. I'm a GS surgeon as well," Jac reminded him.

"Ah, but you'll be hiding. That's vital. I'll need you to be in control of the circuit," he winked. "There's some old stuff kicking about my pal's garage. We can go tonight and get it and do it tomorrow."

Jac grinned, looking forward to pulling one over on Sacha. For the first time in a long time, Jac was itching for her shift to finish, curious to see what Jonny was up to. By half past five, they were in his car, driving to the edge of the city. "What are you even up to?" Jac finally asked when he parked in the drive of a large house with a huge garage.

"Come and see," he grinned. "Bob's not home but I've got a key," he added, unlocking the garage. "Right. We need a distributor – an old fashioned one – a spark plug, ballast resistor, twelve volt battery, coil, wires, capacitors, HT leads, a metal plate to take the spark further...oh, and we're gonna need to make a length of cable about, I dunno, ten feet?"

"Speak English," Jac sighed.

* * *

Sacha rushed onto Darwin; he'd just been called by Jonny for a GS exam. He was a little wary – rumours had spread about the last time a GS consult had been called on Darwin. As far as he'd been told, Serena and Ric had spent a good few hours in a storage room. And, of course, there were a few rumours of what happened in said storage room, but Sacha preferred not to speculate. Especially since Serena had ended up on top of Hanssen barely a day later.

He'd become very cautious of who he did a favour for, but he decided Jonny, Mo, and Jac had already pulled that little stunt, and had managed to fool Ric and Serena of all people, and would probably see no entertainment of doing it again.

He walked onto Darwin with a comfortable smile. He'd expected Jac to be there, but then if she was, he wouldn't be needed, would he? "So, what's the problem, young Daniella?" he asked, Jonny standing beside her bed.

"It's so painful," she gasped, clutching her abdomen.

"OK," Sacha sighed, rubbing alcohol gel into his hands. He pressed his hands gently into her stomach, feeling for any internal swelling and tenderness. "How does that feel?" he asked.

"Bloody sore!" she snapped. He couldn't tell by the shade of her skin how much pain she was in; she was white as a ghost already, thanks to her cardiothoracic issues. He couldn't feel anything untoward, which he found odd. He supposed the problem could be masked by her already poor health, but he'd still expected to feel something.

He stepped over the cable protector he assumed was hiding the cable to the monitor as he tried again to feel any problems in the girl's abdomen.

Sacha felt panic rush through him when, suddenly, she started struggling to breathe. "Chest drain!" Sacha exclaimed to Jonny, who pushed the metal trolley to him. He grabbed the trolley, and as soon as Jonny took his hands off it, Sacha received the shock of his life. Quite literally – an electric shock pulsed through him. "What the hell?!" he exclaimed, shaking his hand. He touched the trolley again and it was fine, but there was no way that was the normal static electric shock. That was a _real _electric shock.

He went to pick up the scalpel, but threw it down when it too shocked him. What was this? "Jonny, are you getting a shock off that?!" he demanded, acutely aware that Daniella was struggling to breathe. The nurse touched it, grabbed it, and was fine.

"No," he replied. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Sacha said, cautiously touching the trolley again. Nothing. With more confidence, he went to pick up the scalpel, and felt another electric shock sting his hand, making his whole arm feel funny. "What on Earth is going on?!" he shouted, wringing his hand yet again.

* * *

"May I ask what you are doing, Miss Naylor?" a smooth voice behind Jac asked as she pulled the wire away from the metal of the table. On the top was a wooden board with what Jonny assured her was an ignition circuit on top. She watched as his eyes traced the circuit and the long wire going into the room where Sacha was currently shouting and Jonny and Daniella were struggling to keep a straight face. "I do hope Miss Johnson isn't actually struggling to breathe while you and Nurse Maconie torment Dr. Levy."

"Of course she isn't," Jac scoffed, shorting the circuit to the table leg as Sacha reached for the scalpel again. "She's in on this."

"Well, I must say, this is one of the most elaborate jokes I've seen so far," Hanssen gave her a small appreciative smile. She could see he was admiring the devious intelligence of the plan as he heard the fast clicking of the circuit with every spark. She wasn't quite sure which component was making that sound but it was clearly doing its job. "Don't you think you should put the poor man out of his misery?" he asked as she shorted the circuit yet again, and Sacha yelped.

She was making sure he still trusted it was intermittent by allowing him to touch the trolley and the scalpel sometimes and shocking him on other attempts. "But it's so much fun," Jac protested, keeping her voice down as she tried not to get caught. She looked up and saw he was looking sterner than earlier. He was right – she could happily sit and do this all day, but she was being mean now. "Fine. Go and grass me up," she sighed.

He gave her a slight amused smirk and strode into the room. "Dr. Levy," she heard him address Sacha. "There is no need to worry. Miss Naylor, Nurse Maconie and young Daniella are just having a little joke to themselves."

"You three?!" Sacha exclaimed. "Jac!" he shouted.

"Sacha!" she called back with a grin. She poked her head around the corner and saw him looking thoroughly amused, with a hint of annoyance, but it was barely there. That was what Jac adored about Sacha – everything was a joke to him anyway.

"See," Hanssen said, gripping the scalpel and the trolley at the same time. Jac grabbed the wire and shorted the ignition circuit one last time. She, and Jonny, Sacha and Daniella, laughed when he yelped slightly and his hand flew off the metal. He shook it, clearly having had a nasty shock.

He turned and she burst out laughing at him.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hanssen," Jac called, grinning when he glared at her. "I couldn't resist!"

Jonny sniggered behind the Swede, and even Sacha, who knew what it felt like by now, was trying not to laugh. "You two do realise you've both had around thirty thousand volts go through you?" Jonny informed the other two men.

"Yes, I gathered that from the lack of feeling in my arm," Hanssen replied, flexing his fingers. They left Daniella to laugh to herself for a while, meeting Jac in her secluded corner. "This is one of the most intelligent and technical jokes I've seen yet," he reiterated his previous point.

"I'd like to take the credit," Jac began, "but, truth be told, I don't know how half of this works. Jonny put it together last night," she confessed, knowing and not caring she'd just alerted Hanssen to their relationship. "I'm just the one who shorts the circuit," she grinned.

Hanssen nodded and said, "Impressive." He walked away, and Jac was sure they'd made him actually smile.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to review and tell me your thoughts!  
Sarah x**


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